Telling Seamus
by Semirhage
Summary: A conspiracy's hanging in the air! All of the sudden, every girl has Harry on her mind! What's happening? Warnings, SLASH! One-shot; complete.


**Telling Seamus**

**Author:** Semirhage )

**Rating:** PG13

**Warnings:** Slashyness = boys kissing boys. ::grin:: And Seamus, if you need a warning for him. ;)

**Spoilers:** As far as I know of, only COS...but everyone's read that, right?

**Pairing:** Surprise...and it doesn't take too long to figure out. But if you really want to know, scroll to the bottom. I mention it there in passing. :)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and all those other people that actually have some money. The only thing that I own is the plotbunny and the muses.

**Summary:** A conspiracy's hanging in the air! All of the sudden, every girl has Harry on her mind! What's happening? Warnings, SLASH!

**Archive:** , , and my website when I finally get it running. If you want to archive it, just make sure to drop me a line and address for your site. I love browsing places I've never been before. .

**Author's Notes:** Err...leave me feedback! I love to know when my stories are appreciated!

I was seventeen and in love with life. I was a ladies' man. The only problem was that, for some reason, I had the most immense difficulty getting a date. Sure, I was not used to girls fawning over me and following my every movement with adoring glances like _some_ guys around school, but I never had so much trouble getting a girl to date me. Sometimes, I had a feeling that a conspiracy hung in the air.

Distractedly, I shifted my pawn, twirling a strand of hair around my finger thoughtfully. What could be wrong with them? Perhaps I was just losing my touch.

"You all right, mate?" Dean Thomas' concerned voice filled my ears. "I just checkmated your king, told you so three times, and you still haven't heard me. Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, pursing my lips in annoyance. What an enigma! Maybe Dean would know what was happening. "Mate?" I asked, raising my head to catch his dark-eyed gaze. "Have you noticed anything...odd lately?"

"Odd?" he responded, frowning as if he did not understand the word. "What do you mean, _odd_?"

Realising he was not going to understand, I waved my hand. "Nothing really. I suppose I'm just a bit tired."

Rolling his eyes, Dean began gathering his chessmen who rapidly complained about being stuffed into their box. "Perhaps you should get some sleep, then," he suggested helpfully. "I think I'm gonna go finish the Transfigurations homework we have. I've just got another inch to go." With a sigh, the tall boy slouched towards the stairway that led to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory.

As I stuffed my chessmen into their case, my thoughts jumped back to the urgent matter. Why was I suddenly undesirable? _Is it something I said? Or something I did?_ An ominous shadow settled over me. What if I spent the rest of my life rejected by girls? _Naahhh..._

I laid the king next to his queen and snapped the box shut. Maybe a huge pimple had popped on the end of my nose - No, I would have noticed it. With a sigh, I acknowledged the fact that perhaps girls simply did not like my appearance anymore. I took pride in my sandy locks and bright blue eyes. I worked hard to keep my body in good condition and every girl I had dated before had liked me toned. What was I doing wrong?

A giggle caught my attention, drawing my eyes towards the entrance to Gryffindor tower. Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati had entered the room. Immediately, they rushed to Harry's side and knelt by his chair. I squinted and saw that Lavender was talking rapidly and confidentially. _My_ Lavender - with her hand on Harry's knee.

I snorted as my eyes focused on the boy. Sure, he was famous, but he did not have near the looks I did. The only part of him that even came close to rivaling me were his eyes. They were the most brilliant green I had ever seen on a person, but still, he hid them behind those hideous glasses. No - he was definitely not my match in appearances. What did they see in him, then? Were they giving him attention only because of his fame? Certainly not Hermione - she at least was not that superficial, but something told me that was not the case.

A couple of seventh year girls walked past me, one of whom I had dated for a couple of months. Normally, I would surreptitiously eye them and rate them on a zero to ten scale. If a girl marked high enough, I would mentally note her and woo her at a later time. Their conversation, however, was what caught my attention.

"Harry Potter?" the dark haired girl, Samantha, I thought her name to be, asked. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose in surprise.

"The very one," Clarissa responded. Beautiful, intelligent, fun, inventive Clarissa who I had previously dated.

"You say he's the best kiss you've ever had?" Samantha urged as the two sat on a sofa near me. As inconspicuously as possible, I sat in the empty chess seat and pretended to fiddle with the board while straining my ears to catch their conversation.

"Most definitely," Clarissa nodded. "I don't think there's ever been a guy who's come even _close_. You wouldn't believe what he can do with his tongue. I bet he's excellent at, well...other things. You know what I mean."

Eyes widening, my head jerked towards Harry. The boy was sitting nonchalantly, one leg crossed over the other, while Parvati gestured wildly with her hand.

"No way," I muttered, shaking my head. When I turned back to Clarissa and Samantha's conversation, I was not sure whether I wanted to hear any more or not, but I continued to listen. I needed to know how to get back into the girls' good graces. Maybe Harry could show me how to do some of...well, whatever he was doing.

"And he reads poetry too," Clarissa remarked. "He read me Shakespeare - that's a Muggle playwright. So, so, sooo romantic. I love a boy who's not afraid to show his sensitive side."

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Samantha nodding. "Yes - his voice is just perfect for reading. Soft and pleasant to listen to. He has such a great voice."

"I wish I could go steady with him."

"Steady?" Samantha asked with a snort. "I'd take a good snog." She sighed wistfully, then added, "What I wouldn't do to have that boy between my thighs."

I jumped at the girl's words, my sudden movement causing the chair I was perched on to topple. With a loud bang, I collided with the floor. Feeling eyes on me, I stood and laughed. "Well, Mum always did tell me to keep all four legs on the ground."

"Are you okay?" Harry's voice.

My laughter halted abruptly. Backing towards the stairs, I nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, fine, fine," I muttered, trying to avoid his green eyes. _Oh, Saints, girls want_ him _between their thighs! _ Blanching, I hurried up the steps, throwing a hasty, "I'm just a bit tired," over my shoulder.

As soon as I reached my bed, I hopped under the covers, not bothering to change my clothes. I wanted to sleep and forget the conversation I had overheard. Sleep settled over my mind like a veil, but it was not the sweet release from life that I had hoped it would be.

Morning waited until the last possible moment to make her appearance. I had a fitful night - when I _did_ sleep, my dreams had only mimicked my waking thoughts and problems. Could I never get away from him?

I sat, pushed my curtains aside then froze. Sitting on the ledge by the window was none other than Harry. In the pale light of the morning, I saw that he was clad in only a pair of boxers. My eyes flitted over his toned, lithe body. He had changed since he had first started school as a skinny, small boy. Now he was - I bit my lip - well, so he was not bad looking. Truthfully, in the faint illumination, he was...attractive. The round, gigantic glasses that I always saw perched on his nose, obscuring his green eyes, were absent. _That,_ I thought, _does a lot to alter his appearance. He should try to find a spell or something to correct his vision... I'm sure there's something. And if there are no spells, I'm sure there's some Muggle way. Maybe I'll look in the library for something sometime. That way, when I talk to him about girls then I'll have something to give him in return. Yeah, that's a good idea._

Absently, I twirled a lock of hair around my finger. Perhaps this was the light in which girls saw him. I sighed, rather a bit loudly, then froze. When he did not budge, I quietly exhaled. For some reason, I was almost scared of a confrontation with Harry.

_Maybe he won't notice me,_ I thought as my hand slowly reached for the fabric that could create a barrier between him and myself.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Harry turned in my direction. His eyes widened in surprise then narrowed as he squinted to see me, a smile flashing across his face. "Mornin', Seamus," he said softly.

"Hi," I returned, trying to make my voice cheerful. "What are you doing up so early, anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry replied, turning his gaze back to the window.

"Oh, me too." _Idiot,_ Seamus thought, _of course that's why! At least Harry probably has a good reason for being unable to sleep. I wonder what he would think if I told him what was keeping me up. He'd probably laugh at me._

"What's on your mind?"

_He does have a soft voice,_ I thought. _But it's not so much better than other guys'. What is his secret?_ I sighed and collapsed once more to my bed. "Oh, nothing much, really."

"Just drifting off, then..."

Then he was quiet. Of course, Harry was not the type to blabber incessantly. Not like me. Could that be why girls like him better?

A couple of hours passed while I tried to muster the courage to ask him about what I had heard. My hair was in knots from where I had twirled it around my fingers. I heard Neville stumbling over his covers and Ron's sleepy voice muttering his traditional "good morning, Harry."

"Oy, Seamus, it's morning!" Dean exclaimed as he stomped past.

Sighing, I slipped from my bed and started when I saw that Harry had not moved yet. "Are you going to go get ready?" I asked, nervously shifting my weight from foot to foot.

He glanced towards me sharply as if he were surprised to hear my voice. Just as quickly, a flush spread across his cheeks. "Yeah," he answered, ducking his head sheepishly.

I snorted, "You, Harry Potter, never stop amazing me."

Head tilted to the side, Harry looked at me with curious eyes. "How's that?"

_For one, I've heard almost every Gryffindor girl talking about your prowess -_ Mentally, I sniggered. Looking at him, I found myself not believing what I had heard Clarissa declaring the previous evening. Averting the conversation from a topic I did not wish to delve into, I exclaimed, "Your boxers - teddy bears and hearts?" Shaking my head, I meandered into the loo.

Although I did not turn around, I was sure Harry's eyes followed me until the door shut behind my back. Did he know my anguish? Was he purposefully stealing the spotlight from me? But that was not right - Harry had never wanted to be in the centre of attention. He wanted to be 'just Harry' or some such nonsensical nonsense. But that was impossible. Only he could not see that he was so much more.

Normally, I entered the Great Hall flanked by a couple of girls (one on either side); today I smiled and tried to not call attention to the absence of female presence.

"Oh, what's the matter, Finnigan? Lost your touch?" Malfoy's cool, taunting voice reached my ears. "Or perhaps they're finally seeing through your shallow appearance to the idiot that lies beneath it all."

I opened my mouth to retort, but I could think of nothing to say. Maybe Malfoy was speaking the truth. _Harry_ was not an idiot.

"Yeah, Malfoy, and it's just too bad that you don't have any good looks at all to make up for your lack of sense. Not only is Seamus intelligent, he's handsome too."

Malfoy's mouth distorted into a sneer. "Poor Finnigan, so dull he has to get Potty to come up with his retorts for him. A word of advice...spend your money on someone with a better wit than Potter. He may be the wizarding world's Golden Boy, but when it comes to verbal spats, he just doesn't have a clue."

"Sod off," I spat, feeling the rage build inside me. Oh, I wanted to fight! I knew I could pummel Malfoy to a bloody pulp if given the chance, and I wanted that chance. My hands tightened to form clenched fists at my side.

A hand fell on my shoulder. "Come on, Seamus," Harry said gently. "He's not good enough for that. Let him splutter and throw his taunts all he wants. He's just trying to make someone else feel as bad about themselves as he does about himself."

I breathed deeply, then exhaled, feeling the stress pour from my body with the released air. "All right. You win, Harry," I responded after a moment's pause. I felt his hand relaxing on my shoulder and heard his sigh. "See you, Malfoy. Oh, and do send your father my sincerest wishes for his well-being. He _is_ still alive, isn't he?"

Without waiting for a reply, I followed Harry towards the Gryffindor table. I found myself talking almost immediately. "You didn't have to jump in on my business, you know." My voice was accusing and slightly angry, but I did not moderate my tone. I wanted him to know how I felt; I liked being honest with my emotions and thoughts. That was just the way I was.

"Oh, so you would have rather stood there with your mouth open and gaping like the idiot Malfoy accused you of being?" Harry asked, his voice light and playful. "At least after I intervened you seemed to regain your mental abilities - that is, the little you have."

Folding my arms across my chest, I glared at Harry. "Well, that's real nice of a thing to say."

"Stop pouting," the dark haired boy sniggered, poking a finger at me.

"Harrryy!" a feminine voice exclaimed from behind me.

I turned to see Lavender bounding towards Harry and me. "Hey, Lavender," I said smoothly in my trademark "sexy voice" that always worked with the girls.

"Hey," the girl replied, waving a hand casually at me before returning her full attention on Harry again. "So, sexy, sitting with me at breakfast?"

"I suppose," Harry shrugged, running a hand through his already messy hair.

Scowling at the gesture, I thought, _Bloody show-off. Doesn't he know his hair is too messy as it is? Girls don't like messy hair._

However instead of frowning at the act, Lavender giggled. "Your hair is adorable. C'mon, lover. Let's find ourselves a couple of seats, eh?"

Coughing nervously, Harry glanced at me before muttering, "Sure."

During breakfast, I sat by Neville. My food, for the main part, remained untouched. Why should I eat when no girls were interested in me anymore? Life was not worth living without the soft embrace of a woman. While I was not eating, I noticed several details. One, I was the only boy being completely ignored. Hermione continued to send Ron secret, shy glances across the table, and Dean and Parvati kept kicking me while attempting to play footsy. Two, Ron decked his French Toast with syrup _and_ whipped cream - did he not get enough sweets already from Hermione? Three, girls near me were _still_ talking about Harry. Do they not ever get bored of one guy?

I just did not understand. Why had every girl suddenly lost interest in me? Surely I was not that pernicious of a being - if I were, how did I manage to get dates before? Maybe all the girls had suddenly decided they wanted _serious_ relationships - not that I only participate in one night stands. Generally, I am not a commitment kind of guy. Maybe Harry was; maybe that was why the girls like him.

My head dropped into my palms and my elbows rested on the table. I was not sure how much more of this torment I would be able to stand. Suddenly, out of the corners of my eyes, I noticed that Lavender, Parvati, Hermione, and Ginny were all looking my direction while Harry talked quietly to them. What was he saying?

My stomach lurched sickeningly and I turned my gaze back to the table top. So Harry was feeding them lies about me, huh? That was probably why no girl was interested in me. Topping that, he was probably spreading lies about his abilities in bed as well. _That_ was why girls wanted to pretend that they had been with him.

Standing, I muttered to Ron and Dean that my stomach was upset - and truthfully it was. I rushed from the Great Hall and away from Harry. I did not want to see him - did not want the confrontation that I knew surely would transpire at some time.

Determined to make that a much later time, I headed towards the place I knew I could be all by myself.

_Drip-drop, drip._

The steady trickle of water splashed at my feet and the cool air seeped through my thin clothing. I sighed, my breath forming into a thin mist before my eyes.

The big snake that haunted the school during second year had lived in the plumbing - according to Dumbledore. Well, no scary monster lived there anymore, and I knew that for a fact. I knew because the pipes were _my_ haunt now. Yes, I could not get access through the little snake entrance, but I had found other ways. Having Fred and George as old schoolmates had been immensely helpful. They knew little facts about Hogwarts that not even Dumbledore knew - of that I was certain.

In the pipes, the light was usually dim - however, my eyes adjusted to the change in brightness quickly. Actually, I liked the dark; I found brooding easier when I was not hampered with the little details of everything around me.

At the moment, I was not sure I wanted to think about anything. I wanted to just _be_.

In the distance, I heard the soft impact of a shoe with the ground. I groaned. There was only one other person in Hogwarts who I knew could find a way into the pipes.

"Harry," I said without looking towards him.

He faltered, probably surprised by my notice of him. "How'd you know it was me?" he asked, the uncertainty obvious in his voice.

"Do you really have to ask that?" I asked. "Or are you really that dense?"

"I suppose you want to be alone..."

I snorted. "Obviously." _Now leave me that way._

Instead of walking away, he continued walking forward and halted abruptly beside me. "I wanted to check and see if you were all right. I noticed you weren't eating at breakfast this morning."

"Aw, I didn't know you cared," I snapped.

"I do," he said, voice laced with confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes," I retorted. "You!"

For a few moments, he did not respond. When he did speak, his voice was soft and...hurt. "I'm sorry if I... No, that's wrong. I am...sorry."

"For what?" I asked, seething. My head jerked towards his slender form. "For which wrong are you sorry? Or for them all?"

"For which wrong," he repeated dully, hand brushing his pants leg slowly. "I'm sorry because I should have done something-"

"Oh, you did enough."

Harry continued as if I had not interrupted him, "I should have talked the girls out of treating you the way they did. It was...very rude. I should never have agreed to that silly, inane plan of theirs."

My eyes widened. "Plan?" I queried, a pinch of curiosity poking through my ire.

"Yes, 'The Plan'," he repeated bitterly. "It was silly, really. All that matters is that I've stopped it. You don't have to worry about girls giving you the cold shoulder anymore."

"Oh," I said, although I did not completely understand. "So you and the girls - Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati mainly I'm assuming - had a plan. A plan to do something that you don't want me to know about." I sniggered. "I bet I can guess - you were trying to get someone, aye?"

"Something like that."

I sighed. "So what were you talking about this morning, when all the girls were staring at me?"

"That was when I told them that the plan was off," the dark-haired boy said confidently. "I told them that it was not having the effect I had been hoping for and..." In the pale light, I saw his shoulders raising in a shrug. "It just wasn't working out."

"Ah..." I patted the ground, motioning for him to sit beside me. After a slight hesitation, he did. "Sorry about earlier. I just thought you might be...you know, talking about me. Well, you were, but I thought you might be in a _bad_ way, y'know?"

"Oh, it's okay. Really," Harry assured me, then leaned his head against the damp wall. "It's been so long since I've been down here."

A sudden thought occurred to me. "How did you know I was down here?" I asked, frowning.

"Oh, that... Well, you see... I followed you..." he mumbled, ducking his head.

"So I have a stalker, hmm?" I asked, playfully punching his arm. "Harry? When the girls talked about you, was what they said true?"

"What all did they say?"

I grinned as I replied, "Oh, lots of things. For one, you're a really good kisser and _very_ talented with your tongue. In areas unmentionable. Oh, you're great at reading Shakespeare, and you've got the largest-"

"I get the picture, thanks, Seamus," Harry said.

"No prob, mate." For a few minutes, the only sound I could hear was the steady dropping of water. "Oh, I can't stand the wait any longer. Who were you trying to woo?"

"No, Seamus," Harry said, shaking his head. "That's over now. I have ample proof that it just wouldn't work."

"Oh, come on! Maybe I can help you get with this special person. Harrryyy..."

Once again, Harry shook his head. "No, and no again. I assure you that-"

"Who's the lucky lady?" I intervened, grinning.

"There is no lady," he answered.

"But there has to be a lady. How else- Oh." Harry was...interested in men. Okay, I could deal with that. My brain raced. How did that tie in with everything else? The girls had a plan to get him together with the person he liked - a guy. So why would they completely ignore me? Why - unless... He was me.

"You don't mind, do you? I mean, I'm sure there are some guys that would be freaked if they found out one of the guys they showered with liked guys and-"

I silenced him by placing my fingers over his mouth. "Look, I'm not freaking out, am I?" Truthfully, I was not sure how I felt. I knew more about him than he thought I knew, and I wanted to keep it that way for a while. At least until I was sure what I thought about the situation.

Sighing, I leaned against the wall once more, my arms dropping to my side. I twirled my hair around my finger - as I was prone to do while I thought. So he liked me. Strangely, that did not disturb me at all.

Suddenly, I realised Harry was talking. Blabbering. I was not sure what he was talking about - his voice was quiet and his words ran together. I turned my body towards him, a half smile flitting across my face. Before I knew what I was doing, I was kissing him.

He did not respond immediately, but when he did he kissed with enthusiasm and the experience of an amateur. His hands threaded into my hair and I pulled him closer, my hands slipping under the back of his shirt to rub his smooth skin. I ran my tongue across his chapped lips - from Quidditch, I assumed. They were different from girls - but then, Harry did not wear lipstick.

His hands disentangled themselves from my hair and focused on pulling my shirt from under my pants hem. Next, they slid along the skin of my stomach then up my chest to pinch my nipples. Yelping, I jumped backwards. "That kind of _hurt_, you know."

"Pouts look cute on you, did you know that?" Harry asked, scooting towards me. His eyes glowed in the faint light, and his glasses somehow only magnified them.

Reminding myself to look up something on how to magically replace his glasses, I ran my hand through his unruly locks. "I've never heard that one before," I murmured.

"Oh, really?" he asked, leaning towards me to pull my lower lip between his teeth and lightly bite it.

"Harry?" I asked as he leaned his head against my shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Did you plan all of this from the beginning?" My fingers traced the line of his jaw after abandoning his hair.

"No," he replied. "But that would have been good, wouldn't it?"

I laughed softly. "Sure would have."

"Mm...Seamus?"

"Yes?" I asked, my eyelids drooping shut.

"D'you think anyone will miss us if we don't show up the rest of the day?"

My eyes snapped open and I turned to look at him. An impish smile was plastered to his face as he looked up at me. "Oh, I'm sure they will. But that doesn't mean we can't skip the weekend. I could totally understand if you'd rather be with my sexy self than all those silly girls."

"Hah!" Harry exclaimed, poking my shoulder with his finger. "Take me out somewhere."

"Hmm?"

"It's Hogsmeade weekend... Take me out somewhere."

"Oh, and what'll you give me for it?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"A kiss," Harry replied. With a grin, he did just that.

End

::sighs:: I...love Seamus. He's adorable in his own way. On a side note, at first I had intended for this to be from Ron's POV but it...turned into Seamus. :D I have no real plans to continue this story, but I can always be lured into it. Or maybe another HarrySeamus? . Right now, I've got plans for a SeamusDean, and I hope to write that soon! Aah, but there's just so much on my tray right now. --


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